


Sleepless in Yaverland

by MorganeUK



Series: Rom-com adaptations... [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Gen, Harry is mingling, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Molly is mingling, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pre-Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sleepless in Seattle AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-28 20:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganeUK/pseuds/MorganeUK
Summary: John is back from war but never took the most important walk of his life... Unable to afford London with his pension, he ends up in a small village on the Isle of Wight.Wanting to be alone. Or does he?A johnlock edition of Sleepless in Seattle! But with online dating and blog instead of radio and letters :-)** Each story of this series is independent and not related **





	1. How do I delete this?

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to *notjustmom* for the revision, you're the best!
> 
> Sherlock characters are created and owned by the BBC & Conan Doyle and I do not claim any ownership over them (sadly).

"John..." Harry was looking at her brother, frowning. "you must do something." Even with the blurriness of the webcam, he looked awful. "Have you been sleeping? You need to take care of yourself!"

"Oh... look who's talking! As if --" John regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. "Harry... sorry!"

"No it's okay, I understand." It was uncalled for, but he's so stressed out at the moment so Harry lets it slide. "You got to go out there!"

Clara suddenly takes over from her wife. "I know that nature is gorgeous on the Isle of Wight, but it must have few good pubs or clubs somewhere? And don't talk like that to Harry, she's doing really well!"

"Oh, darling... It's because of you." John rolls his eyes at the cooing sounds before his sister gets back to the matter in hand. "Yes, where do the people go to meet someone? There must be at least one decent pub?"

"In the middle of winter, most of those places are closed," John reminds his sister to get her off his back.

"John," Clara argues quietly at his image on the screen, "you won't get better if you don't give yourself a chance..."

"Yeah," he mumbles, "and one day I'm going to wake up with new memories. As if the war just never happened." Looking into his sister-in-law's eyes with a sad smile. "Anyway... I don't think I am in the right mindset to find the love of my life right now."

Rolling her eyes, Harry corrects him. "Who said anything about love, you just need a good fuck!"

Both Clara and John snap at the same time. "HARRY!" Clara being close enough to tap her lightly as she gets up to freshen her tea.

"Aie! What? I'm right! You know I'm right! Since you've been back, have you even looked at anyone? Be honest!"

John, picking up his walking stick, rises silently and moves out of the view of the camera without a word. _As if someone would want someone like me..._

"Darling, don't push him." Clara murmurs, "he'll know when he's ready."

 _I should have closed the communication..._ John, silent, remains standing at his living room window, looking at the peaceful landscape.

"I know love, but I only want him to be as happy as we are." She looks at Clara with fondness as she murmurs, "and being stuck there doesn't help! Half of the population, especially this time of year, is over sixty! It's why he was able to find a job so easily. He craves action, which is why he went in the army!" _I must do something!_ A little spark appears in her eyes and she smiles. _Yes, I think I'm going to help him even if he doesn't want to!_ Talking louder, she continues "John, we are going to leave you alone now, as it's what you think you want. Talk to you next Saturday. Love you, little brother, take care."

The Skype window turns black as the Londoners quit the conversation. John, lost in his thoughts, steps outside his little house and walks slowly in direction of the sea.

 

The next day, John was still thinking about what his sister had said to him. _Yes, maybe I should do something. Sara is nice, maybe I can invite her for a drink or something?_ His mind was slowly drifting away when his therapist, Ella, softly calls him back to the room.

"John... are you still with me?" Her chiding tone was sympathetic.

"Oh sorry, it's just that... I was thinking of maybe asking someone from work out."

"For a nice dinner?" She was written notes on her little book at John's annoyance.

 _What did I say that merited a note?_ "Oh... no... not a dinner. A drink maybe? Yes, a drink isn't so formal, and...

"And?"

"'it's less... awkward."

"Awkward?"

 _Stop repeating everything I said!_ "Yeah, you know... If it's going really terribly, it's just a drink so it's not too long and we'll be able to laugh about it the day after in the break room."

"But?"

"If it's dinner... and it's not going well it can be much longer, and then it will be more awkward at work..."

"There is the possibility that you are going to have a wonderful time, did you ever think about that?"

"Maybe..."

"Let me know how it goes." Looking at her notes, she asks, "have you ever considered writing a blog?

"What do you want me to write about? My uneventful life?" John laughs.

"About you, John. Simply about you."

"I can try... but it's certainly won't win any prizes," the doctor jokes. _And I can't see how it's going to help me._

 

A week later, after his morning walk, John was sitting at his desk, sipping his tea. _Okay... Let's do this._ Opening his computer, he waits for the internet to kick in - the bandwidth was abysmal in this part of the island - pondering about what the heck he was going to write about. _I am really trying to write every day as Ella suggested but... man this is hard!_ Opening the offline version of his blog, he reread the last entries, shaking his head at how pathetic he sounded

> December 10: Happy? / Look Ella. I'm writing my blog.

He smirks at his sister's reply asking if Ella was a good prospect as a girlfriend and asking for a picture. Could you imagine, dating a therapist... Someone who's able to read everything that you don't want to say out loud! Horrible!

> December 11st: Nothing. / Really nothing to say.
> 
> December 12th: Pointless. / Nothing ever happens to me.
> 
> December 13rd: Drinks / Went out for a pint with some people from work. It was nice to be surrounded by people until it wasn't. Nobody talked about my leg.
> 
> December 14th: How? / How do I delete this?

Scoffing at Ella's comment (You don't! You are going good John, just keep on doing this and it's going to be easier. _Ah! As if!_ ), John starts thinking about what he could write for today's entry. In fact, something happened yesterday. _Can I talk about my date with Sara... hmm not really. It was kind of nice, but not that nice. And it's kind of personal... But isn't that the point, that the blog is supposed to be personal?_

He was still considering the question when his email account went crazy! _What the hell!_ His computer nearly freezes as the emails keep going in. _What's going on, have I been spammed by someone? A virus or something?_ Bing, bing, bing, bing... 20, 40, 60, 80, 100 emails! They finally stop after he receives a staggering 137 new emails. _What is this!_ The sender was a server called ExclusiveLove. As his anti-virus didn't detect something weird, he clicks on the first one.

> Dear Sleepless@Yaverland,
> 
> I would love to take care of your poor destroyed soul, I am a really caring woman and --

Not reading the whole letter or courageous enough to click on the picture, he skips to the next email.

> Hey Sleepless,
> 
> Send me a nude-pic, if you're hot enough maybe we can put your sleepless night to good use --

The message was deleted in less than one second!

> Sleepless@Yaverland,
> 
> Don't want to be blunt, but if you want this to go further I need to ask. How much does a doctor make a year in the Isle of Wight? Do you get a bonus because you're so far away? I don't want to work, so I --

_That's crazy! What is all this... I never, ever, put my information on any website!_

> Dear Sleepless@Yaverland,
> 
> I think it is so cute for your sister to --

_Bloody fucking mingling little bastard!_ Rushing to his phone - while urging himself not to jump in the first boat to scream at his sister in person - John taps Harry's number quickly! As soon as his unusually demure sister replies, he shouts, "HARRY WATSON! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE!!"

 

"Oh my God!" Molly was holding her phone, trying to stop herself from screaming of joy! _I am an adult with a serious job after all._ "Greeeeeeeeeeeeeg!"

The DI, who was reading a really boring autopsy report, smiles at his friend. "What is it, Molly? That band that you like is going to play in London?"

"No, and it's not a 'band', it's a musical." She struts near Greg with a satisfied smile and shows him her phone. "Read!"

Knowing that he had no choice, not when she was in that kind of mood, Lestrade took the phone and starts reading aloud. "Sleepless at Yaverland. What am I reading? It's a lonely heart ad'?"

"Nobody calls them that, it's like Tinder but for a meaningful relationship, and pretty exclusive also. For professionals and all." She motions Greg to start again.

"Okay... But I don't understand what wrong to let chance do its thing." Clearing his voice, he starts over again "Sleepless at Yaverland. Man, in his late thirties, looking for a man or woman. Single for too many years, mainly because of time abroad for work, I am now ready to open my heart and soul to someone. I used to live in London, and I am dying of boredom in the middle of nowhere. Will you be the one to give me a reason to get up in the morning? To move on? I love good simple food, walking and observing nature, my work is important for me. But above all, my mind is looking for peace. So, what do you think? Do you want to be my safe harbour?" Unable to restrain himself, Greg starts laughing. " Poor man, this is dry as --"

"Read the post-scriptum!"

"Who wrote a P.S. in a dating profile... P.S. I'm going to be honest, I am not the one who's looking. I'm writing this for my brother who is an obstinate ex-soldier who won't admit that he needs someone in his life, if you are up to the task! Also, here is a link to his blog just for you to see that he's really desperate, the poor soul! http://www.johnwatsonblog.co.uk/ AH!" Greg exclaims victoriously "This is why he's alone! Meddling sister included in the package!"

"Don't you see it!"

"What? I'm a little bit confused..." Looking at the statistics at the bottom of the page, he read that Sleepless@Yaverland as been already contacted by more than 100 interested persons. Greg was looking at Molly, nonplussed."Are people so desperate? And I seriously don't think that kind of man is right for you --" 

"No, idiot, for Sherlock!"

"Sherlock?" He laughs merrily at the idea. "I don't think - it's not really his thing to be interested in that kind of --!"

"No, not him, you are really not that quick for a DI, Greg." She smirks, with a glint in her eye. "WE are going to reply for him!"

"But, the man is on the Isle of Wight! It's hours away..."

"Yes, so a bit more time before they meet which is, in Sherlock's case, can only be a good thing!"

"Oh... devious little minx!"


	2. What have you done?

_A week later..._

"John, I'm sorry... but it was for your benefit!" Harry was looking at her brother with concern. "Are you still really mad at me?"

"At us! I was with her on that..." Clara adds, taking her wife's hand. "it's just that we worry about you."

"All the time."

"You shouldn't," John shrugs. "I am not as fit, but I used to be a soldier... I think I can manage a little village."

"I found another site you know... it's one to help ex-military to find love. Maybe if --"

"HARRY!" the doctor chides,  _she'll never learn!  "_ It looks like you take down that crazy profile now.  I am not receiving any messages."

"Yes, I did it, as you asked," Harry replies, crossing her fingers under the table.

"Good. Thanks, and mind your own business now!"

"Yes, yes, I will." After a second she smiles. "So... Her name is Sara?"

"Yes, it's Sara. You know that, don't fish for more information..." John chuckles, not able to stay cross with his sister for too long.

"Is everything nice? What have you done so far?" Clara asks with glee. "Walks on the beach? Watching the stars? I bet the sky is marvellous without all the luminosity from the city! I can't wait for us to go down there!"

Harry nods "Yes,  _Skyping_  is nice, but being there in person is be better!" 

"New Year's Eve, as we planned."

"Are you going to go to Sara's family for Christmas?" Harry asks with a little smirk.

"No, she's going to her brother's house in Bournemouth, and I'm going to be on call for emergencies anyway." Christmas was going to be a small affair and it was perfect for John. "Don't worry, I'm going to be fine. A nice fire, a book, music... I don't need more."

"Both at a separate place for Christmas, not really magical." Clara protests sweetly with a pout.

John laughs "Magic? What are you talking about?" 

"When you find the real one, everything becomes magical." Her eyes were full of sparkles as she looks at Harry with a big smile. 

"You are too romantic, it doesn't work like that..."  _Magic, for God's grace!_

As Clara's smile drops, Harry engulfs the cute tiny woman in her arms. "Don't be sad, darling, he's going to know it when the right one shows up!"

Rolling his eyes at the cheesiness, John chides his sister. "Harry... Stop this. I am happy with what is going on with Sara."

"You're the boss of your life, bro', I won't do anything new on your behalf again, EVER!" 

"Better not!" the doctor snarls comically, trying to erase the sad look on his sister-in-law's face. "Talk to you next Saturday!"

"Yes, and can't wait to see you in person! Love you!"  

Closing his computer, John rises to go on with his day.  _I'm going out with Sara tonight, better get the house and my bedroom ready... You never know!_

 

A few hundred kilometres away, Clara was now looking severely at Harry, shaking her head. "What have you done, Harry?"

"Whatttt? I didn't do something  _new_  on his behalf... It's just that the emails from my previous intervention are now sent to my account."

"You're going to be in trouble, darling!"

"Not if I find him the right one, the one that is going to be... 'magic'!" With a sweet but definitely mocking smile to her wife, she lifts her arms to do jazz hands at her before Clara smashes her with one of the sofa cushions. "Oie!"

Curious, even if she was a bit angry that Harry was laughing at her romantic view of love at first sight, she drops back next to her on the sofa. "Have you received something interesting?"

"Yes!" Harry quickly opens her email account, "look at that one... I think it's perfect!"

"If we are going to do that, I need a fresh cup of tea! Wait for me before doing anything!" Clara, excited by the little game they were playing and really wishing for John to find his true love, jumps and rushes to the kitchen for her tea.

 

  

"You what?" Greg was looking at Molly gobsmacked. 

Proud of herself, the pathologist replies "I did it!" 

"For real!" _Oh my God, the guts of that woman!_ "How did you do that?"

"I created an account for him on the site, under the name LondonSleuth." She opens the account and turns the computer in direction of the DI. "Here you go... you can read it if you want!" 

Sitting comfortably in Molly's office, Greg first scans rapidly the web page. "189 messages in his inbox! How could it be possible, have you been honest about him?" He laughs, thinking about Sherlock reaction if he knew!

"I've been honest I think... Don't underestimate his appeal! And without a picture... can you imagine if I had put up pictures! But he'll never know about those messages, the account was opened with a new Gmail address that I've created." She quickly motions in direction of the screen, "Go on! Read!" 

"Okay..." Going back at the top of the page, he starts reading. " _Mid-thirties Londoner looking for a man._  You didn't put that he's a man?"

"No, I thought that as Sleepless was interested in either man or woman... maybe still a bit in the closet..."

"Right, but at some point, he's going to know! Anyway, we are not there yet..." His eyes glued on the screen he continues "I've been celibate for quite a while now because my lifestyle does not suit everybody." Greg chuckles, _Understatement of the year!_  "But I am ready now to let someone in, as I think that the addition of someone in my life is going to complete me as a human being. Even if of course each human is whole on their own and not  _per se_ need someone to live.  He may help to chase the boredom life can be sometimes." _It's good to talk about being bored, as it was one of the points of Sleepless_  "I'm going to be honest, even if I am usually considered to be of striking appearance, my attitude has often been called a turn-off. Probably because I have a low tolerance for stupidity. So, if you are stupid, please do not contact me, If you have any doubt about your intelligence, don't bother." _Not sure, we should put that there, but anyway it's too late! At least, it's honest!_ "I am a graduate in the biochemistry field, curious about life, and the mechanics of the human mind but - don't be fooled by that - I am energetic and like to keep my life unpredictable. In a more generic way, I like to eat out, nice clothes and playing the violin. If you are likeminded, don't hesitate to contact me."  Greg was smiling when he turns to look at Molly. "You know, I think it may work!"

"I'm sure, poor Sherlock... he can't go on like that! Not now that is life as a detective is really starting to take off."

"What have you replied to Sleepless?" Greg asks, curious.

Molly, taking a pad, shakes her head "I haven't yet! Do you want to help me to write something?"

"Yes, of course!" Removing his coat he sits near the pathologist. "This is going to be fun! But we must be as honest as possible! We don't want the man to be disappointed when he talks to Sherlock the first time! And maybe after, as we are going to be experts after this, we are going to find someone for each other." They both laugh, maybe a bit sadly perhaps, before they start exchanging ideas.

 

 

"What are you talking about?" They jump as the voice, from the man they were plotting - not against, let say for - resonates in the lab an hour later. "You look really smug, both of you."

"Nothing, nothing..." Molly rushes to promptly closes the tab with Sherlock's profile before he was able to see anything.

"What's that?" The young man point at John's blog who was showing on the screen.

_Damn it!_ "It's a blog --"  

"No. Really?" Sherlock mutters sarcastically.

"It's a blog, from a doctor... I was thinking about asking him about a peculiar gunshot wound as --" Molly stutters as she improvises.

"He was in the army." Greg helps.

_Oh, interesting._ Looking at the computer, Sherlock reads "I am an experienced medical doctor recently returned from Afghanistan." He nods in appreciation, guessing that the small picture of the doctor was probably previous to his period abroad.  _He looks joyful, so young... Black and white... Hard to read.. Anyway. This isn't important!  "_ If he accepts, let me know. It may be interesting." He was going out of the office when Stamford enters the lab. 

"Hey, Sherlock! How are you? Still abusing poor cadavers?" He jokes, knowing that the detective wasn't going to be mad at him.

"Not abusing in vain, Stamford, but for science!" The man replies with a sincere smile. "Last week, I was able to exonerate a man because of an analysis of a post-mortem wound --"

"I thought about that the other day. Do you want to present something to my students?"  _If so, it's going to be a great fun to watch!_

_"_ Why not! Let me know what you are thinking about and I'll see if I'm free." Sherlock enthusiasm was obvious, to Mike's satisfaction.

"Good! Are you still on Montague street if I need to send you something?"

"Yes, but I'm thinking about moving elsewhere. It's not a very nice place to... to receive clients." _Among other things_. He shrugs his shoulders, "but for now it must do, I don't have enough money for something nicer, even if a woman I know is willing to give me a nice price on something really central." 

"Maybe you should find a flatmate?" Mike asks, wanting to help while thinking of who he knows that may need a flatshare.  _But Sherlock isn't easy..._

"Who would want me as a flatmate, Stamford, be realistic." He turns to walk toward the door. "I'm going to the mortuary, I forgot my riding whip." With a flourish, he exits the lab. 

Entering Molly's small office, Stamford grins at the others' cheerfulness. "What's going on? Why are you both so happy?"

"Nothing, Mike, nothing." Molly deflects, not wanting his plan to be too widely known!

The sympathetic man waves a hand as to say 'don't worry, you can have your little secret' before his eyes fall on John's blog. "Hey! I didn't know you knew John Watson?"

 

 

"Clara! That tea is taking forever!" Harry shouts from the living room. 

"I'm here, I'm here..." She sits on the sofa, as she hands Harry a cup of tea.

"Thanks, love." With her other hand, she clicks on her email account to open the email she received from LondonSleuth.

"Ouhhhh LondonSleuth, is he or she a PI or a policeman?" Clara asks as she reads out the handle.

"The profile says 'graduate in biochemistry', so maybe forensic or something?" Harry recalls, opening the profile in another tab. "Here you go darling, you can read it before I show you the email if you want."

"Thanks, darling..." Silently, the woman peruses Sherlock description before asking. "No picture? And is this a man or a woman? It's kind of unsettling don't you think?"

"John is bi anyway. Never had anything really serious with a man, or with a woman, so everything is still open." Thinking about the missing picture, she sighs. "The lack of a picture is more troublesome, but as most of the picture are either trash or too flattering to be real, it's not a big deal. Ready to read the message?" 

"Yes, go ahead!" 

Harry, like a telly host, opens the message and clear her voice theatrically. "Dear Sleepless. I just want to say that I have been touched by the apparent similarity of our profiles. We are both scientists of some sort, my life is quite exciting sometimes and you look like someone who is in dire need of excitement. In fact, I really don't understand what you are doing in that village, as I personally can't imagine my life out of London. We both have utterly disgusting meddling siblings. We should talk if only to stop them and protecting ourselves. I may not be perfect, far from it some may say, but I think that I am a great person and that, with the right man at my side, I could aspire to become a good human being."

Her mouth slightly opens in astonishment, Clara smiles deviously. "Yes, I think we have a winner."

"But now, how can we convince John to read it and give her a chance? Or at least to be willing to start an argument with her?"

"Or him!" Clara laughs "Yes, it sounds like a man."

 

 

 


	3. Stars

A few days later, John was relaxing - as planned - near a fire, with a good book and a cup of tea. _That's good_ . He sighs. _It could even be perfect if no one does something stupid or fall sick in the next 12 hours._ Smiling he thought about his last date with Sara and how she looked a bit sad to go away from him for Christmas. _It wasn't magic_ _,_ he chuckles, _but it's really... comfortable._ He knew that the idea of a relationship being 'comfortable' wasn't a peak of romanticism, but currently, it was good enough. _No, not only good enough,_ John chides himself, _good as a whole_. They haven't slept together yet, but as they were only at their fourth date John wasn't too worried.   _Anyway, the more important thing is that I'm back in the saddle again! We are both of a similar character, both doctors... What can go wrong?_ The voice of his sister resonates in his head, "Nothing except dying of boredom!" Shaking his head to push away the impertinent little devil, he opens his book. I _'m nearly forty years-old! I am no longer that adolescent who fantasized about how exciting life and love are! I went into the army for that, didn't do me a lot of good!_ He massages the phantom pain in his leg, uncostumarily thinking about how foolish his younger self had been.

It was at the beginning of the fourth chapter, the evening was in fact really relaxing as he only had two patients that he was able to deal with by phone, when his computer pinged at him. Curious, he wasn't expecting to chat with Harry - they did it the afternoon - he drops his book on the coffee table and opens his old PC. Unable to restrain his surprise, he laughs an astonished "What?" as a little flag appears on his blog page. _A message. It's probably just Ella to wish me a nice Christmas... who else knew about this._ Thinking about the few people who contacted him that way the first few days his profile was online, he hopes it wasn't one of them!   _I'm not interested, but turning down someone on Christmas Eve, is... let say… a bit not good._ Expecting the worst, he clicks on the message window. 

> Message(s):
> 
> **Your lovely sister** December 24
> 
> I've got something that I want you to read!!!!
> 
> Please, in lieu of Christmas gift!
> 
> Here you go, do as you wish after!
> 
> Dear Sleepless. I just want to say that I have been touched by the apparent similarity of our profiles. We are both scientists of some sort, my life is quite exciting sometimes and you look like someone who is in dire need of excitement. In fact, I really don't understand what you are doing in that village, as I personally can't imagine my life out of London. We both have utterly disgusting meddling siblings. We should talk if only to stop them and protecting ourselves. I may not be perfect, far from it some may say, but I think that I am a great person and that, with the right man at my side, I could aspire to become a good human being.
> 
> Isn't perfect?
> 
> John? I know you read it. Please, say something!
> 
> *
> 
> **John Watson** December 24
> 
> Harry, you promised... What's that? Is Clara with you?
> 
> Shit! Another of your lunatics!
> 
> You are no longer my sister and I'm placing both your gifts in the fire.
> 
> *
> 
> **Your lovely sister** December 24
> 
> John! Come on, don't you see it? It's perfect!
> 
> *
> 
> **John Watson** December 24
> 
> It's not perfect, it's falsely cheesy. 'with the right man at my side' bla bla, no way I'm going to fall for someone who needs me to be someone like that!!
> 
> And that's a shitty thing to do Harry! Even if the message is right about having bloody annoying siblings!
> 
> *
> 
> **Your lovely sister** December 24
> 
> Sorry if we only want you to be happy!
> 
> *
> 
> **John Watson** December 24
> 
> I am as happy as I am capable of being right now. Stop fussing, for God sakes!
> 
> *
> 
> **Your lovely sister** December 24
> 
> What should I say to him or her?
> 
> *
> 
> **John Watson** December 24
> 
> It's your damn problem!
> 
> *
> 
> **Your lovely sister** December 24
> 
> Okay, okay... You are so grumpy! Are we still allowed to come at the end of the week?
> 
> *
> 
> **John Watson** December 24
> 
> Yes if you stop all that madness for good!
> 
> *
> 
> **Your lovely** sister December 24
> 
> Don't worry. I will never talk about this again. Love you Johnny.
> 
> *
> 
> **John Watson** December 24
> 
> Me too, little pest! Kiss Clara for me, wish you both a nice Christmas. See you soon.

Re-reading the message of the anonymous that his sister posted, a slight smile appears in John's face.  _Yeah, that's true that my life isn't exciting right now!_  With a chuckle, he picked up his coat, cane, and tea and stepped outside into the night. _But it's all right isn't?_

Looking at the stars, a feeling of peace drops over him. The sky, dark with the exception of millions of stars, reminded him of Afghanistan. A vision of his time as a soldier rushes in front of his eyes, the thrill of the adventure, the quick decision making needed on the field, the surge of protecting his platoon.  _I miss it so much! The feeling to belong, to be a part of something, to have a role._ The memories of his time in the hospital, of the infection that nearly killed him, the thought of his mangled shoulder, nothing was worse enough to make him totally grateful to be in that little village, on that island, so far away from conflict, so far away from real action. 

He was still gazing at the sky, lost in his thoughts while putting back his phone in his pocket when it rings. Breaking the silence.

"Watson." He starts walking back to his home to get his things. "Yes, Ms. Gallagher, I'm coming. Just keep putting a cold cloth on his forehead until I arrive."  _Yes, that's my life now. From the poppy fields of Afghanistan to a kid with a fever..._

 

 

Sherlock was walking along the Thames, not wanting to be at his flat. The temptations that were so readily available to him were not conducive to staying clean in his current mindset.  _I need to get out of there, but how!_ He has been bluntly honest when he had talked with Stamford... he didn't see how a flatshare could work! The idea of having someone else in HIS things, in HIS peripheral vision... ALL. THE. TIME. The mere idea was insufferable!  _And to imagine that a normal human being could be able to tolerate living with me is inconceivable!_ He was starting to get cold, his scarf and hands in his pocket weren't enough to keep him warm, but it was better than any of the alternatives. He grunts at the thought of being at home with his parents and Mycroft... His brother insisted, of course, but he wasn't in the mood for it.  _At least, here, I am alone! Alone is good._

Thinking about the blog he saw on Molly's computer, he shivers at the thought of living on a small island. Of course, he knew that the Isle of Wight wasn't _that_ small, but the concept of being voluntarily that isolated was something that he wasn't able to understand. Far from cases, far from his favorite restaurants, far from Bart's, a nightmare!

Suddenly, he stops his vigorous walk and opens his phone, looking for the doctor's blog. The last entry was as pathetic as the other.

> December 24th: The sky / It's Christmas Eve, the sky is wonderful and full of brilliant stars. I wish you all, where ever you are, a peaceful night.

Looking up to the sky, he frowns as very few stars were visible because of the light surrounding him. _Anyway,_ he raises his shoulders dismissively while he continues his walk, _stars are such a waste of valuable space in one's mind. I know how the solar system works and it's good enough._ He frowns, a bit lost. _How does it go... the moon turns around the Earth or... Oh! Who cares!_   His mind was restless, his recent inactivity was driving him crazy! The idea that somewhere in the city, someone was maybe plotting a complicated crime! The heist of the century! The puzzle of a lifetime! _Yes, something grand is waiting for me, I know it!_

He stops again, now kilometres away from his flat and in a more secluded space. But he wasn't afraid, not when his army of irregulars is looking over him. Not when Mycroft is always looking over him. His vision slowly adjusting to the lack of luminosity, he checks around to smirks at the nearest CCTV but his eyes stop wandering when his gaze falls upon the sky.  

It was wonderful.

Full of brilliant stars.

And peaceful.

His mind suddenly stops churning as nothing was more important than absorbing the sight of the thousand little lights visible between the buildings. He feels himself start to relax and opening his phone again, before he can stop himself, he types out:  

> Reply by Anonymous: I am not at all a poet, too rational and scientifically minded for that, but you're right, it's peaceful to think that even within the total darkness, light can come thru to show us the way.

And, with a small smile on his lips, he turns on his heels to go back slowly to his flat. His tormented mind calmed at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little article on how to be able to stargaze when in urban : https://londonist.com/2013/11/stargazing-in-london-top-tips-from-the-royal-observatory


	4. Terminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days later...

One morning, a few days later, Sherlock wakes up thinking about that man.  _He's ordinary! How could I be curious about that man?  He's only a man!_ _The man. That doctor. Him. John._ Strangely, the thought of the lonely doctor hadn't left his mind since he read his poor example of a blog in Molly's office. And he wasn't able to resist reading it daily since then.  _Not that anything changed_. Without his consent, his hand rummages through the nightstand drawer to get his phone.  _I won't check that stupid blog again!  Arggggg!_

5 seconds later, the site was on his browser. _Oh! He replied to me!_ Seemingly against his will, his heart starts pounding. Chiding himself,  _this is crazy! It's only the pitiful blog of a pitiful man_ , he forces himself to stay calm by reciting the periodical table.  _Number 1, H. Hydrogen. Atomic mass of 1.0079; number 2, He. Helium. Atomic mass of 4.0026; number 3... Oh! Fuck it! At least I'm going to read over his last post BEFORE reading the reply to my reply. I'm pathetic._ Losing the battle, he read over the few last posts, keeping the reply to 'his' for the end.

> December 24th: The sky / It's Christmas Eve, the sky is wonderful and full of brilliant stars. I wish you all, where ever you are, a peaceful night.

> Reply (2)

 _Nope. I'm not clicking on that little 2. I am an adult. I can wait before looking at the reply to my reply. And maybe it's not even him!_ Forcing his eyes to go a bit further on the page, he read over December 25 and 26.

> December 25th: Nothing / I wrote poetic bullshit last night. And I wasn't even drunk. Which I am a bit right now. You see Ella, I'm doing something with my life, I'm drinking!
> 
> December 26th: Sorry / Really sorry for last night rambling. I think that... Christmas, you know. It's not easy right now. I think about how special Christmas was when I was in the army. The other medical team, the soldiers, it was like a big family. It wasn't special and extraordinary, it was the sum of a lot of small things. The excitement of expecting something from home, the camaraderie between us, a special meal - not from a tin, thank you very much - at the mess. A bit of music and fun to forget for an evening the horror outside of the camp. Right. That's cheerful. Apologies to my 2 readers. 3 if I count 'anonymous' from the other night.
> 
> Reply (8)

Without thinking, Sherlock clicks on the reply button to read the discussion below.

> Reply by Harry: Are you all right John? I am so worried, and Clara too. Didn't like yesterday's comment either... One day at a time, everything is going to be nice again, I promise!
> 
> Reply by Doctor John H. Watson: Really, Harry? One day at a time? It's not a bloody AA program! Right now, the only thing I can do is get up in the morning, remember to breathe in and breathe out, go to work and play my part. Don't ask too much from me.
> 
> Reply by Harry: John darling, don't react like that. We just want to help you get better and I want to hug you so badly right now! 
> 
> Reply by Harry: On another subject, I've seen that you've got a secret admirer who loves the stars too! That's nice!
> 
> Reply by Doctor John H. Watson: Hope it's not one of your weirdos. 
> 
> Reply by Harry: I don't know, you'll tell me lol Love you, take care.
> 
> Reply by Doctor John H. Watson: Me too. And next time that you want to talk to me, use the messaging thing. Don't want everyone to read us.
> 
> Reply by Harry: It's okay! I want the 38 inhabitants of your little village to know that you are looooooooooved. xoxoxo
> 
> Reply by Doctor John H. Watson: You are crazy. Good night. 

 _Who's that man? Harry?_ His instant jealousy at the idea that the unknown man was on such good terms with his doctor was strangely unsettling for Sherlock.  _This is ridiculous, he can have a thousand lovers if he wants! Anyway, he's probably straight._ After that exchange, nothing new for two days except a reply to his own comment. Not able to stop himself any longer, he finally clicks on the discussion below the December 24th comment to read what John Watson wrote.

> December 24th: The sky / It's Christmas Eve, the sky is wonderful and full of brilliant stars. I wish you all, where ever you are, a peaceful night.
> 
> Reply (2)
> 
> Reply by Anonymous: I am not at all a poet, too rational and scientifically minded for that, but you're right, it's peaceful to think that even within the total darkness, light can come thru to show us the way.
> 
> Reply by Doctor John H. Watson: Sorry, it's been 4 days. Your comment, it unsettled me so I had to ruminate a bit. I used to think that stars are the people that I loved that are looking over me, showing me a way, a path thru all this. A bit like you said. But, since I'm back, it's as if my comrades that died are looking at me from the sky asking why I'm there when they aren't. Sorry, I don't want to destroy your own epiphany. God, this is ridiculous, I keep having to apologise to people nowadays.  And now I need to say it to an anonymous person, this is, I think the most pathetic I will ever be. 

The detective was about to reply that he shouldn't talk about himself like that, being a doctor and an ex-captain was something to be proud of!, when he closes his phone. _I don't know why I'm invested that much into a non-relationship with a man that I've never met! This is nonsense!_ Not realizing that the void of the doctor's existence was echoing something deep inside him. That he was the missing link that the doctor needed was as clear as that the ex-captain was what Sherlock desperately searched for without even knowing it! Unable to go back to sleep now that the others tenants start to shout and bang around, Sherlock suddenly knew what he needs to do.

 

 

A happy smile on his face, John was waiting at the ferry's terminal in Ryde. The weather was fairly nice, even if it was colder than on the mainland, so he was standing outside looking at the sea. It was December 28th and, as planned, Harry and Clara were staying with him for the New Year. He was mentally creating a list of the things he needs at the grocery store when his phone pings joyfully. It was his sister, excited because the boat was near the island. He quickly texts her to resist and stay inside the boat as the temperature on the sea, with the wind and the spindrift, was a perfect way to catch a cold! Going inside the terminal, he sits near the exit, waiting for them while forwarding a few cases to his colleagues, as he had asked for the week off. His sister was a pest sometimes, he chuckles at the whole 'Let's put John on a dating website', but they are really close especially now that their parents were both deceased.   _And Clara is a Godsend! Harry is doing so well since they've been back together!_ The idea of having a whole week with them was really pleasant and John was nearly feeling himself again. He raises his head as the walking passengers start to make their way out of the door connecting the terminal to the dock. He saw them quickly, his sister jumping up trying to spot where John was. 

"John!" She finally saw him and jumps into his opened arms. "I am so happy, I've missed you so, so, so much!"

Clara, pushing Harry over a bit, finds a space to hug John as well. "Hey, brother-in-law, really happy to see you."

"Me too, both of you!" He points his finger at his sister. "Even if you, madam, are a menace!"

Laughing, Harry pushes her brother playfully. "You need help sometimes, that why you have a big sister!"

"Only one year... And I am a man! I am the one who is supposed to --" but John's light banter halts as his eyes fall on the most beautiful man he ever saw. He was tall, not overly tall but way taller than him, thin but with an energetic look, a mop of black curls all over the place because of the wind...  _I've never seen such perfect skin, pale like marble, not from illness - but ethereal. I wonder, his eyes, the colour... Look at me, please! Please!_ His summon didn't work, as the Adonis's gaze remains on his phone.Not listening to the women who were gossiping about what they heard on the boat, something about Madonna buying something at a place or somewhere else he doesn't know or care at the moment, John starts following the man. Rushing, afraid of losing him, he didn't realize that his sister was holding his hand until she pulls harder, yanking him back.

"JOHN! What's the rush!" She asks, a bit confused by her brother's action. He was now looking around, a bit lost, his cheeks red. "Are you all right? Are you having a panic attack or something?" She slowly moves them toward the edge of the room where it was quieter.

Having completely lost the man in the crowd, John murmurs, "no, no, sorry... Nothing's wrong." Shaking his head to pushes away the feeling of loss,  _I'm stupid! I don't even know the man!,_  he grabs Harry and Clara by the arms and puts on a happy face. "Come on, beautiful ladies, your carriage awaits!"

Sherlock was inside his room at the Ryde Castle Hotel, looking at the glorious view on the tormented water without being able to appreciate any of it.  _What am I doing here, it's crazy! It has been too easy!_ Even though he was unlisted, finding Doctor Watson's address had taken only a few minutes. Checking the schedule of the next train to Portsmouth, taking the half-an-hour ferry ride, getting a room, a car already waiting for him in the parking... all that in only a few hours.  _And now, what?_ His phone keeps pinging with text messages from his brother. 

> What are you doing? MH
> 
> Where are you going? MH
> 
> The finger, to the CCTV, really mature brother mine. MH
> 
> Portsmouth? Why... Do you have a case or do you want to visit the historical ships? You always wanted to be a pirate after all. MH
> 
> The Isle of Wight? Seriously? Is this about that doctor of yours? MH
> 
> When I say of yours... MH
> 
> SHERLOCK! MH
> 
> What are you doing! This is ridiculous and you know it! MH
> 
> However, you could have chosen worse. I've looked at his files. MH

Closing his phone, Sherlock puts his gloves and walks outside his room.  _Better not to think about it too much, it's only a 20-minute drive and then I will know. I don't know exactly what I'll know, but I'll know it!_

 

After a quick stop at the shop, the joyful trio arrived at John's cute little house. As the doctor gives his key to Clara, she quickly runs to open the door, leaving John and Harry alone for a moment. Harry laughs at Clara's obvious ploy to leave them on their own. "I think she wants to be sure that you have the chance to chide me in person!" 

"Yes, I had prepared a big speech, but I think she deserves to hear it too, so I'm going to wait until after our late dinner!" He smiles, content for the first time in a while. 

Holding John closes, she asks seriously, "how are you really doing, brother?"

"Better, now that you are here."  He hugs her strongly with one arm, his other hand holding his walking stick. "Sorry about... about me spacing out like that at the terminal."

"Yes, it was strange, it was as if you had seen a ghost!" She laughs, fussing with his clothes before kissing him and rushing inside. "Be quick, it's freezing! And we need to talk about that Sara!"

 _Nothing much to say about that._.. he thinks as he turns to the back of the car to get the grocery bag.  The aggressive sounds of a car horn wake him from his reverie as John, instantly in doctor mode, looks at the road in case of an accident.  John freezes, dropping his bag and letting his cane drop to the ground, as the man from the terminal was standing in the middle of the road. He was about to open his mouth to say something - anything! - when the man vanishes as if he hadn't been there at all.   _What the hell?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that way of presenting John's blog isn't too hard to follow!


	5. Misunderstandings

The evening was going nicely. They eat, talk and relax. Exchanging news about their life, funny things about patients, clients or bosses. Harry, with a bit of mirth in her eyes, asks about Sara. John sadly kills her hopes by saying that finally, it was already over.  _Even before it started for real in fact._  "Yep. So that's it. Her ex-boyfriend was at her brother's Christmas party and they... they are ex-exes." I _t's going to be awkward at the office after the holidays._

Clara quickly hugs John."What!? The woman is crazy! You are a catch!" 

"You are a darling, but we both know it's not true." John laughs, thinking of his leg, his shoulder, his nightmares, his locum work...  _Yes, what a catch I am!_ "Anyway, it wasn't... It was ordinary, not really worth the effort probably."

"You know... that I still have that message that I found interesting?" As her brother rolls his eyes, she shakes her head and raises her hand in defeat. "Okay, okay, I won't say anything. Do you have any other... prospects?" Harry says lightly, watching her brother over her glass of sparkling water. 

"Yes, no, maybe... I don't know!" John wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about the man he saw outside his house. For him, it was something personal, something for him only. _A gift, a vision, the hope of something... more._

"Could you please be less specific? " 

"It's... it's nothing... I don't know what to say." And, without being able to stop himself, he tells her the strange string of events. 

 

Clara was up getting coffee when she hears John talking about the beautiful stranger. Laughing, she interrupts the story. "I knew that something happened at the terminal!"

"Nothing, happened," the doctor grumbles. "It's just strange, that's all."  

"Don't try to downplay it, John!" Harry argues with a small smile. "You were frantic! God, I even thought that you were having a panic attack or something. But no... it was more of a heart attack!" She playfully winks at her wife.

"No, no, no, don't try to..." He waves his hand in dismissal "It's... not important!" He stops talking and frowns. "Just weird."

"And you saw him here also, that is really weird!" Harry was dumbfounded by the whole affair. "Is he a stalker? Do you know him from uni or the army or something?" She was suddenly worrying a bit because she actually put a link for her brother's blog...  _Maybe it's one of 'my weirdos'!_

"No, never seen him before..." Unable to lie to himself, he mutters, "but he was so fucking beautiful! Never seen a man so.... so... not just sexy or fit, but..." John was clearly looking for the right words without being able to find them. "At the pier, he was focussed but lost in his thoughts at the same time. Moving with a goal, a determination that I haven't felt myself since Afghanistan." Rising from the table, he walks to a window in the front of the house, looking at the road. Not realizing that he has left his walking stick behind. "And then, not even two hours later, he was standing there, in the middle of the road. I don't know why... he was looking at me, transfixed. Magnificent."

Pointing out the cane to Clara with an amazed grin, Harry asks quietly, "and then he just... disappeared?" 

"Yes, two trucks went down the road and when they were gone, he wasn't there anymore." He tries to remember the car, anything, but wasn't able to do so! 

His sister-in-law, always the romantic, murmurs to herself, "I'm certain that it was magic!"

Dreamily, John sighs, as he finally admits it. "Yes, it was."

 

 

"It's YOUR fault, Molly Hopper!" Sherlock shouts as he barges into the pathologist's office the following afternoon. "I've wasted too many hours, a few hundred pounds and... my dignity!" Dropping his bag loudly on the floor he sits in the chair in front of her desk. It was a bit before lunch as Sherlock, after a restless night in his hotel room, took the first ferry from the island on December 29th before jumping on the train. 

"What are you talking about, Sherlock?" The pathologist asks with a smirk, used to her friend's antics but worried about his disheveled and exhausted look.

"That..." he points at the computer. "That blog you showed me!" The disgust in his voice was clearly audible. 

_Oh.... don't tell me that worked anyway!  Never seen Sherlock so frazzled!_ "The blog?" She asks innocently.

"Yes! The one with that doctor, ex-soldier!" As Molly remains silent, he continues. "Him! Watson! The short but strong blond man! Kind of cute." The last words were barely formed.

"Oh! Yes!" She frowns quizzically. "Blond you say? The photo, wasn't in black and white on his blog?"

Muttering something about how blond, brown, red or black hair clearly all looks different from each other on a black and white photograph, _everyone knows that_ , Sherlock stops talking and puts down his head on the desk. "It's over! I will not think about him anymore! I am a logical man!"

"Sherlock, what's going on?" Molly probes softly, placing a light hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know." The sound of the detective's voice was now partially lost as his arm was now covering his mouth.

"What?"

Sitting up suddenly, the man shouts, "I DON'T KNOW!"

Closing her office door, Molly sits beside him."What have you done? Tell me." 

 

An hour later, after he has to repeat everything a second time because Greg arrives in the middle of his story, Sherlock was emotionally drained. 

"You did all that, really?" Greg was astonished. "Never thought you had it in you to--"

"GREG!" Molly interrupts. "I don't think he really needs that right now!"

"It's okay Molly, he's right... I wasn't acting like myself. It's ridiculous!" He jumps from the chair, standing tall. "I'm over this now. Yes. Over." Shaking his head, he laughs at his own foolishness. "Oh God, I was so stupid... How could... Can you imagine! And replying to his blog! Talking about stars! I'm so ashamed... Please erase everything that I said in the last hour!" 

"No! Sherlock!" The pathologist now holding his shaking hands. "It was good, not maybe the stalking part of it, but it was good that you felt something for someone. That you felt the urge to make a connection." Thinking about what he told them of his encounter, she thinks out loud. "You told us that he looked at you, with a lot of intensity. He's curious! Maybe you can ask him out, officially--"

"Don't try, I've been a fool. And anyway as I've told you, he's got a woman in his life..." Without another word, he leaves the room.

Molly turns to Greg quickly. "We need to do something!"

"You heard him, he doesn't want us to do anything, Molly..." Greg is at a loss for words. "Anyway what can  _we_  do?" 

"Doctor Watson is clearly curious! And now that we know that he interacted with Sherlock on his blog..." She smiles. "Maybe we can set up something!"

 

 

That afternoon, Clara and Harry were walking down the beach, dressed as if they were in Antarctica. "God, it's freezing. But it's beautiful, I must admit... my brother chose a nice place to hide." 

"Yes, but I think he's not that good at that 'doing nothing' thing. Maybe later on, but now he needs something or someone or he's going to become ancient before he turns forty!" Clara objects.

"You're right, darling..." She stops walking as her phone pings "Oh, my phone. Shit!" With her teeth, she removes one of her gloves and fishes out the little device in the inner pocket of her coat. She reads for a minute or so before she starts laughing "Oh!!!!!!! Quick, love, we need to find that little café John was talking about!"

"Why?"

"First of all, I'm freezing, and secondly... we've got a message to write!" Still giggling, she holds onto her wife's hand and runs until they were inside the cute little coffee place. 

 

A few minutes later, when they both received their latte, she opens her phone again and pushes it in Clara's face. "Read! It's brilliant! Just so, so, so good!"

"Okay... let me see! Oh! It's a message from LondonSleuth!" She looks at Harry with a little smirk... "You told John that you wouldn't do that again!"

"It's him, not me! He's the one who contacted John's fake account." Harry tries to justify her actions. "Yeah, I know, I was supposed to close the whole thing down but... I couldn't! I thought if there were a small possibility of something happening was still on the table..." She points at her phone, excited. "Read! Read!"

"And... it's a man? He never said..." Her eyes widened as she read the message. 

> Dear Sleepless in Yaverland,
> 
> It's been nearly a week now and you  haven't replied. In fact, I need to be honest, the message was not from LondonSleuth, but from us, Greg and Molly. Both friends of the wonderful man we were talking for without his knowledge. What we said in his profile and the message that we sent was as truthful as we could make it. It's what we think he would have written for himself if he could...
> 
> You have probably been swamped with hundreds of messages, way more interesting than ours, but... we just want to say that he was also 'the' anonymous who left you a message on your blog. It seems that he saw your blog when he came into the office and wasn't able to get it out of his head. So this part is solely his. He talked to us an hour ago, ashamed of himself, saying that it wasn't his usual behaviour to think about things like stars and such and even more not his style to actually talk about it, especially to a stranger! 
> 
> Probably means that you are special to him, we don't know.
> 
> So, we just want to say that you were not apologising/talking to a random stranger, but to our friend.  It's true that for you, he's still a random stranger! We've read your discussion and we want to tell you that you didn't need to apologize, your experiences in Afghanistan are simply colouring your feelings and that's normal.  And it's his opinion also. Our friend lives an eventful life, even if it can't be compared to being a soldier, and we can say without a doubt that he's done a lot of stupid things. Sometimes we feel that he thinks that he doesn't deserve to have friends or someone special in his life, something that we felt in your profile and your blog.  Which is utterly sad. For both of you. Nobody deserves to be alone.
> 
> Also, this is a bit trickier, and understand that it's nothing to be worried about. But, yesterday - wanting to understand why he was pulled by the few things he knew about you - he suddenly decided to go to Yaverland. He's the man who stood in front of your house for a minute or so, before rushing away back to London, afraid of having acted like a fool.  He told us that you were with a woman and that you looked loved. He's sincerely happy for you I think, even if we are sad that he closed himself off again so quickly.
> 
> So, do not be afraid that you've been stalked by a maniac, it was only the action of a curious man, wanting to understand his feelings.  We understand and won't contact you again. This account going to be closed in the next few minutes.
> 
> Molly & Greg
> 
> p.s. But if he misreads the situation and you are seriously wishing to learn more about him, meet him December 31st at midnight, under the London Eye. We will find a way to get him there ;-)

Clara looks at Harry, her eyes filling with tears "Oh. My. God." 

"Isn't it perfect!?" Harry was grinning like a fool, getting out a tissue to wipe the tears from Clara's face.

"Yes! We just need to find a way to get him back to London..."

"I've got an idea, maybe we could..." And the rest of the conversation was lost in chuckles and plans for John's happiness.


	6. Fireworks

"What are you saying? You need to go back to London? Now?" John is looking at his sister, surprised. "You seemed so happy to be here for the New Year and now..."

She shrugs into her coat, holding her phone as if she's been contacted a minute before. "It's an emergency! I need to check a contract for a foreign client..." She turns to her wife for support.

"Come back with us, John!" Clara insists with a big smile. "For the fireworks and all... I know you miss London!" 

"It wasn't what we..." It is tempting, but it's not in his nature to be spontaneous and yell out a big fat, happy 'yes'.

"I know it isn't what we planned, bro', but it's good, right? A little holiday in the big city!" Harry smiles sweetly, hugging her brother tightly. "The most important thing is to be together."

"Yes... But-" John stops.  _But what?_   Closing his eyes a second, his level of anxiety starts rising at the thought of leaving his village, leaving the island.  Hating the feeling that his life here is becoming a security blanket, he opens his eyes back and looks at Harry. "Okay, I'm not going back to work until the second anyway."

"Perfect!" The petite woman jumps up to hug her brother-in-law as Harry quickly books ferry and train tickets for December 30th. "We're leaving tomorrow morning!"

 

They left Yaverland early after a good night of sleep. The trip, aside from the chaos that time of the year usually created, went well and the three arrived at Harry and Clara's flat in the middle of the afternoon.  _How is it possible to completely change the setting that quick!_  Harry, as soon as the door closes, rushes to her home office with apologies that 'she must get on with her work!' When in fact, she spends the afternoon playing Candy Crush while sending Clara dirty texts. 

Feeling a bit claustrophobic, John, after his bed is set up in the sitting room, tells his sister-in-law of his intention to go for a walk.

"Do you need company?" Clara asks, her eyes still glued to her phone as her cheeks suspiciously turn pink.

"No, no! Stay warm, I'll be back before dinner, don't worry."

 

Picking up his walking stick, he closes the door leaving the two women on their own.  He deeply loves them, but their little apartment was quite... little. It was cozy, but a bit modern for his taste and he never felt at home in it.  _Which is normal as it's not my home._  He smiles, thinking about his vision of the ideal home. Something warm, clean but crowded. Not in a big complex, like Harry's place, but something more home-y. The continual buzzing of the city around him was similar to the breaking waves. A presence, a background noise, the feeling of being surrounded by something bigger. He knew that hiding himself away as he was right now wasn't a viable solution for the long term, but the idea of being in London to end up in a bedsit was worse!  _But what can I do? I won't be able to get a good job in London, who wants a lame doctor!_

He is lost in his thoughts and has been walking for more than an hour when someone calling his name brought it back to reality. Looking around him, he was in the middle of a square, he spots the grinning face of an old classmate. "Stamford?"

"Yes! It's me!" He grins as he pats his stomach. "I'm a bit fatter, I know! But, you! John, John Watson! You haven't change a bit! How strange it is to meet you here!" Catching sight of John's walking stick, he frowns slightly. "What happened? I'd heard that you were getting shot at in Afghanistan or somewhere else."

"I was shot." John smiles with satisfaction as he realizes that the subject wasn't as difficult now. "Got any time for a coffee or a pint?"

"Yes! Of course!" The men start walking in the direction of the nearest pub. "What are you doing in London? I've read your blog and last I read you were living in a little village?"

"You read that, oh, god!" Opening the door, he grins as the comforting warmth of the pub engulfs them.  _No problem finding an open pub here!_  Getting a table, he waits as Stamford asks the bartender for two pints.  Looking at his old friend, John was honestly pleased with the happy coincidence.

Back with their drinks, Mike argues with a laugh, "it's true that your blog isn't perfect! But it's always hard when you start something like that." 

"Yes, I know... the line between what you should and shouldn't talk about... I usually do not talk about feelings and such, so, it feels kind of useless, you know? Especially as nothing is happening in my life that is worthy of a blog post." After a few sips, he asks, "anyway, how did you stumble upon it? It's not like I publicized it or something!"

"Oh, your page was open on a colleague's computer." He tried to remember what Molly told him. "Ah! Yes, in fact, she wanted to ask your opinion about some gun shot wounds or something. She's a pathologist."

"That does interesting, too bad, she never contacted me!"  _That could be more interesting than giving flu shots!_

"Maybe you can make a career of it!" Mike smiles "Got another colleague, no, not really a colleague of mine... anyway. I know someone who is really into all these things. His name is Sherlock Holmes, he works with Scotland Yard and on private cases. Have you heard of him?"

"No, but I've stayed away from the news since I've been back..."  

"Really interesting fellow, even if he's a bit peculiar! He was looking for a flatmate, maybe I can put in a good word for you!" Mike smile drops a bit as John shakes his head.

"I won't inflict myself on anybody right now..." The doctor replies before changing the subject back to their classmates and how the world is changing far too quickly.

On the morning of the thirty-first, John was alone in the living room. Apparently, Harry's 'emergency' was now a thing of the past and she was free as a bird to go for brunch and relax until the big event at midnight. He was pondering the idea of getting up to make coffee when his phone buzzes. Hoping it wasn't something related to work, he swipes across his screen happy to read that is was Mike. 

 

>  
> 
> Hi John! Really nice speaking to you yesterday! This is so funny, I walk thru that park nearly every day to go to work! MS 
> 
> Yes it was! JWa
> 
> Let me know if you decide to move back to London for good, I'll hook you up with that man from Bart's. MS
> 
> I don't think I will, but thanks for the offer! JW
> 
> Wish you a wonderful New Year, John! MS 
> 
> Yes you too. JW

>  

Closing his eyes for a few minutes, John considers the idea of coming back to London...He is still doing a mental list of pros and cons when his sister steps outside the bedroom and starts making coffee. 

"I need coffee! Then a good shower, then we are going for a nice brunch..." She is strangely happy for someone who just woke up a few minutes earlier. 

"Are you hiding something, Harry?" John shouts from the living, suspicious.

Chiding herself about being too obvious about her little scheme, she quickly singsongs out "No, no! Just had a good shag last night and I slept suuuuuuper well so I'm really relaxed!" 

"Oh God! Harry! Seriously too much information!" He theatrically falls back on the sofa, burying his face with a cushion. "You're my sister for God sakes!"

Clara, stepping out of the bathroom and a bit sleepy, mutters, "why are you screaming..."

"John doesn't want to know that we made love last night!" Harry replies, waggling her brows.

"Oh! HARRY! This is personal!!!" 

Looking at the women who were now chasing each other in the kitchen, a little burst of envy hit him suddenly. _It's true that it's nice to have someone, especially on New Year's._

Sherlock was looking at Mycroft, not believing a word of what he was saying. "You said, that you need someone to pick up an envelope for you in that big round thing next to Westminster Bridge."

 _That big round thing..._ "The London Eye, yes! Or the Pepsi/Moët Chandon /whatever name  _they_  changed it to recently." Unable to say no to DI Lestrade, Mycroft was in charge of getting Sherlock to the London Eye at midnight.

"Tonight. At midnight."

"Yes, right before the beginning of the fireworks."

"Won't it be full of people at that moment, with the celebration and all?"

"Yes, so it's the perfect moment to be anonymous, don't you think?" turning back to his computer, Mycroft hides his annoyance with difficulty.  _For once it would be nice if he would just do as I ask!_

"Why aren't you asking one of your lackeys?" The detective frowns, not knowing what to think of his brother's unusual behaviour.

"I don't trust them, of course, and Anthea is with her family, for the holiday." 

Sherlock, not willing to let it go that easily, asks petulantly, "what do I get in return for playing your errand boy, brother mine?"

Finally giving up, the older brother mutters in a defeated tone, "I'm going to take care of Mummy's gift for her next birthday."

As Mycroft seems particularly eager to have him do this favour for him, Sherlock pushes his luck a bit further. "...and the next Mother's Day as well?" 

"Of course..."

"Deal."

The detective was about to leave his brother's office when he calls him back. "One last thing, Sherlock?"

"Yes?" 

"Good luck. With everything." Mycroft says, before taking up his phone to call the PM.

"I don't know why you wanted to come here," John complains as the number of party goers rises exponentially as they walk down Westminster Bridge. 

They had spent a great day, the three of them together. The restaurant was great, followed by a lazy afternoon in a coffee place with board games and great music. But, after dinner, Harry had insisted that they get dressed nicely and go out to the Millennium Pier. "The view is as beautiful from the other side of the river, or even a bit further away." 

"No! My client gave me tickets for the London Eye! It's going to be grand!"

"What? Just like that? They cost a fortune! Or you have to win a lottery to get some!" Walking behind his sister, swearing against his lame leg, he was once more flabbergasted by the type of client his sister has! "Three times your usual rates because he asked you to work on the 30th! He paid our first class train tickets, now places inside a pod..."

"I know, your sister knows big shots!" She laughs, thinking about the email she had received a few hours ago with the request of getting her brother to the London Eye at quarter to midnight. "Quick, John! We only have 10 minutes left!" Raising her eyes she spots an elegant woman with a little sign with their names on it. "Oh! It's there! Hi! My name is Harry Watson, and these are my two guests."

"Everything is ready, Ms. Watson, please follow me." Anthea, a little smirk on her beautiful face, walks through a security corridor until they reach the platform. Turning to John, she smiles. "Is this your first time in the London Eye, Sir?"

"Yes, it's going to be interesting..." John replies politely, not acknowledging the beauty of the woman as he used to do.  A cute woman joins them a few minutes later. 

"Hi!" She smiles at their little group. "I'm going to share the pod with you! My name is  _Molly_!" 

Knowing at once, who she is, Harry shakes her hand with a big grin. "It's grand, don't you think? First time for all of us!"

"Oh! I've been up there many times! It's quite romantic, don't you think?" The pathologist, happy that Mycroft was able to set up everything on such a short notice, couldn't stop grinning. 

John looks up, impressed by the brightly illuminated structure.  _It's true that it must be romantic, except for the fact that you are with a bunch of strangers._.. Most of the pods, each one able to hold 25 people, were already full. Usually, each pod is emptied at every complete thirty minute rotation, but as tonight is a special occasion, the people were staying inside many turns so to be there for the fireworks.  Wondering when it's going to be their turn, John turns to Anthea to ask the question, not realising that an empty pod was slowly arriving.

Sherlock is on his phone, a bit angry. "Mycroft! Your man never showed up! I am turning for no reason in a stupid Ferris wheel while scantily clothed women scream at me from the other pod!" He turns away from the window - to the dismay of the young ladies - just to find out that the pod on the other side is also full of young, very drunk professionals.  "You asked me to arrive at 11:30, which I did, told me that the man was going to be right behind me, which he did not. I've met my part of the bargain, I'm going to get out as soon as this glorified bicycle wheel comes to a stop! And you are still going to take care of Mummy's presents!" Angrily, he closes his phone.

Looking out over the Thames, he admits that is was kind of a nice view...  _And Parliament is quite spectacular. Maybe I should bring our parents on their next visit._ He frowns at his sudden burst of sentimentality.  _What's wrong with me, first these crazy feelings for the doctor and now I want to do something with my parents?_ He breathes a bit easier when he realises that the pod is nearly back on the platform.  _About time!_ He is walking a few meters to get to the sliding doors when he sees him. _He's talking with Anthea, what is this... I don't understand_. Then he saw a grinning Molly and everything falls into place.  _Oh, the little minx!_

Anthea, watching as Sherlock's pod arrives back to the platform, presses the doors open and motions John to step in first. Closing the door after him quickly, leaving Harry, Clara and Molly outside. Thinking it was an error, he quickly bangs on the door, shouting. "What's going on? HEY!"

"Sorry to say, I think this is a set-up, Doctor Watson." The voice, echoing in the closed space, was velvety and warm. Slowly, John turns in the direction of the end of the cabin. And he saw him.

 

 

"It's you..." John says, his voice shaking. "I... I... don't understand. How is this possible?"

Unable to see who was with Anthea as the pod starts its ascension, Sherlock shakes his head. "I am not fond of repeating myself, but as I said, I think it's an elaborate set-up..." Thinking about the woman he saw with John just forty-eight hours earlier, he adds a sad "apologies." 

"Oh, don't be sorry... " Laughing with relief that a logical explanation existed for the fact that this extraordinary looking man kept showing up in his ordinary life, even if his own soul was slowly falling into the realm of the mystical, he nods. "Of course. Harry." 

The feeling of a jackknife entering his body suddenly cuts the detective's heart in two.  "Harry?"

"Yes, Harry. My sister, short for Harriet. You saw her with me... back at my house."

"Oh... "  _The sister, always something._

"Is it weird, that I kept thinking about you? I've seen you two times and..." 

"Twice?"

"This makes three. The first time was at the ferry, you never saw me." John was mesmerised by the man's voice.

"A big mistake, the first of many probably. I was so focused on finding you that I never realized that you were here." He blushes, feeling like an idiot.

"It's okay," John apologizes, stars in his eyes. "I didn't know either, that I was waiting for you..." 

Suddenly, to the men's surprise, the people in the other pods start shouting. "10, 9, 8..." 

"Almost the new year..." Sherlock says, walking near John.

"6, 5, 4..."  

"Yes, we waited - without knowing it - for too long...."

"2,1"

Letting their bodies do the talking, the noise of the fireworks making any conversation impossible anyway, they kissed.

Without stopping, except for breathing. Softly first, then with a more heated passion. 

Without reacting to the rowdy catcalls from the others pods.

Without watching the beautiful fireworks.

Until their lips aches, until the only sound was the combination of their beating hearts and raging breaths. 

Until the wind and the cold of the opening door caught them off guard.

"Gentlemen? They are closing..." Anthea was waiting, keeping the door open as both men - a bit stunned - walk out of the pod, Sherlock taking John's hand to avoid being separated in the crowd.

Not wanting to leave, but not knowing what to do next, they both ask at the same time. 

"Do you -"

"Are you -"

 

Remaining silent, Sherlock motions John to speak first. "Do you have somewhere to go now?" 

"No, don't really want to go back to my dingy flat."

"Same, don't really want to go back to my sister's sofa."

Stepping one step closer, even if they were already nearly as close as they could be, Sherlock asks with a raspy voice. "A walk then? Somewhere more peaceful." 

"Yes," John replies, his gaze fixed on the other man. 

As they both remained immobile, thousands of Londoners walking joyfully around them, the detective's phone starts buzzing. And buzzing. And ringing.

"You better check it, it may be urgent."

Rolling his eyes at the inconvenient timing, Sherlock replies impatiently "It's better be impo -"  His beautiful face becomes radiant as an exhausted Lestrade explains why he called. "Where? Okay, we are going to be there in 15 minutes." Not explaining anything to John, he grabs his hand again and starts running in thedirection of Belvedere Road to get a cab; his imposing stature creating a path through the crowd, when the voice of the doctor stops him.

"What! Where are we going?" 

Pivoting quickly, he saw the confusion upon the man's, John, _JOHN's_ , face. "You have questions?" 

"Yes..." The doctor chuckles. "I do."

Watching longingly after the cabs that pass near them, Sherlock sighs. "I'm a consulting detective. Invented the job. The man on the phone was from the Yard, he needs help. Always, kind of sad, especially at this silly season. So... Cab."

"Okay." John, still confused, turns his wrist to get Sherlock's attention. "But why are you holding my hand?"

"I don't want to lose you." He didn't say 'obviously' but it was clear in his tone. " And, isn't that what people do?" The tall man asks, a bit lost.  _Am I doing something wrong?_

"When?" John asks patiently a grin slowly appearing on his face.

"Well, when on a date?"

"A date?" the doctor laughs merrily at the madman. "We don't know each other, I didn't even know your name, and you want to go on a date?"

Looming over the smaller man, the detective murmurs in his ear, "I know that you are a former captain of Her Majesty's Army, that you have a psychosomatic limp, that you are a great doctor, but a better human being, that an isolated life isn't for you but that you are perfect for me. And I want to be the man who's going to help you see the beauty in the stars again..."

Not knowing how to close the deal, he stands back a bit and winks. "The name is Sherlock Holmes."  

Unable to resist, John swiftly pulls on their hands to bring the man to his level and presses his lips upon Sherlock before calling a cab with his other hand. 

His walking stick high above them, abandoned in a capsule above London skyline was testimony to the fact that, yes, Doctor John H. Watson is back in London.

For good.

**Author's Note:**

> Any thought so far? Kudos and comments are little pats on the back from the Internet God!
> 
> Let me know if you have a brilliant idea for a romcom adaptation! To know the movies in my 'to-do' list, click on the link for the series. 
> 
> And, 
> 
> Thank you lovely!


End file.
